


One Negative and One Positive.

by naivesherlolly



Series: Sherlock One Shots [5]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: COVID-19, Coronavirus, F/M, Greg's new wife, Pandemics, Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-05
Updated: 2020-08-05
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:35:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25711459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/naivesherlolly/pseuds/naivesherlolly
Summary: Greg's new wife, Anna, unfortunately, shows symptoms of Coronavirus. But after her test results come back as negative, another idea as to the cause of her symptoms pops into her head.
Relationships: Greg Lestrade/Original Female Character, Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Series: Sherlock One Shots [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1626403
Kudos: 5





	One Negative and One Positive.

**Author's Note:**

> So I've never written Greg Lestrade in a fic/one-shot before, but I'm actually quite excited for it! I wanted to incorporate some recent events into it, but they won't be dwelled on for too long; most of the fic is going to be fluffy ;)
> 
> Also - if you have symptoms of Coronavirus, please get a test! (If you're in the UK - I'm not sure what the process is for other places).

Greg Lestrade hadn't had a good run with women. Almost all of the people that he'd been with, including his (now ex) wife, had cheated on him. He was sick of it, and he swore that we would never date anyone again after divorcing Lisa. But then, he met Anna. And she came to him like an Angel. Greg had been on a binge with a few fellow officers one night after work and had had one too many, just as the other officers had. He'd stood outside to have a smoke, leaning against the wall of the pub, when he felt a sharp point push at his side.

"If you try to fight me, I promise you I'll push the knife right into your gut. You got it?" All Greg could do was nod, and follow where the man was pulling him. It took a minute for his head to clear before he recognised the voice of the man - someone he'd arrested a couple of months ago for aggravated assault. He didn't win the case and had to spend a couple of months in jail, which had made him come to resent the DI. 

Just as he was about to push Greg into the back of his car, a hand came to wrap around the handle of the knife, and he felt it being tugged away from his stomach and pushed into the suspect's stomach, making sure to miss any vital organs in doing so. This gave the person long enough to grab Greg and pull him from the car and away from the suspect who had now dropped to the ground and was leaning against the open car door, nursing his shallow stab wound. 

"You crazy bitch! You'll pay for this, you know!" He shouted at her. She ignored him as she dragged Greg away as far as possible. Once she'd sat him on one of the outdoor benches, she got her phone out of her pocket and dialled 999 for the police. After she'd relayed everything that happened, including Greg's name and badge number after she'd seen it sticking out of his pocket, she knelt in front of the DI who was trying to sober up as quickly as possible. 

"Hey, you alright? I'm guessing you know who that is - I could probably also guess the motive as well - you are a police officer, after all. No offence." She spoke with a soft English accent as she checked him for injuries. Greg narrowed his eyes in an attempt to clear his vision, but the lights of a police car pulling up made him close them again. 

"None taken." He said, a faint smile on his lips. She stayed with him until he was given the all-clear and she'd made her statement, and then walked him back to her car and offered to drive him home. Numbers were exchanged, dates were made, rings were given, and eight months later, she was Anna Elizabeth Lestrade. 

**

Three months after the wedding, Anna had shown possible symptoms of the virus that had been going around, and Greg insisted that she order a test to do at home. Anna had been slightly worried about having to be tested at some point, and she was adamant to not get it, but it was just her luck that she'd started having nausea and severe fatigue. She was also a little bloated, but she ignored that as it didn't fit in with the general symptoms. 

"I'm sorry, Love. But it had to be done." Greg spoke, sealing the package with the finished tests in. Anna was bedridden, at the order of her concerned husband. "How are you feeling?" He put the back of his hand to her forehead. "You still don't have a temperature which is good."

"I feel like I've been hit by a bus and dragged down two streets." She laughed weakly, sliding back down into the sheets. "I just want to be better already." If Greg knew one thing about Anna, it was that she avoided being sick at all costs. "I don't get it - I wore masks all the time, even walking down the streets, and I used hand sanitizer." 

"I'm sorry, Anna. I know you didn't want it, but if you have it you know you won't be able to go to work for at least two weeks, right?" Anna groaned, rolling over, her back to Greg.

"That's even _worse,_ why would you say that?!" Greg chuckled, smoothing his hand down her arm. 

"I'm sure Elle can send you something to do while you're sick if you're feeling up for it. I'll be here as well, so at least you won't be alone." Anna turned her head to look at Greg. 

"How will Scotland Yard cope without you?" Greg let out a loud guffaw but then realised that she was being serious.

"Aw, Love, I'm flattered," he chuckled, lying down next to her, "but I'm not Sherlock; they can survive without me for a while." Anna turned her body to rest on Greg's chest, wrapping an arm around his stomach. 

"Exactly, you're not Sherlock. But if you're not there, then who's going to keep him in check when he visits crime scenes." Greg thought for a moment before groaning and putting an arm over his eyes. Anna chuckled, before suddenly stopping and running to the bathroom connected to their bedroom. Greg sighed in sympathy and went after her, holding her hair back as she rode out the next wave of nausea. Afterwards, she sat back against the toilet, flushing it. "This virus can go fuck itself." 

Greg smiled, running his fingers through her blonde, shoulder-length hair. "It only lasts about two weeks, and you probably won't be throwing up the whole time." Anna nodded, leaning down to rest her head on his shoulder. 

"Thank you, Greg." 

"No problem, Love."

**

After four days of quarantining at home, the results for Anna's test came back - Negative. 

"Thank god for that! I could hardly manage four days, let alone two weeks." She threw the letter into the bin, sipping her tea as she tried to combat yet another wave of nausea that still hadn't subsided. "Doesn't explain why I'm still nauseous and bloated though." She wondered as Greg came into the room. "It was negative, you can go back to work, Darling."

Greg let out a breath. "Thank god for that. Sherlock's been a bloody nightmare to have to deal with over the phone - I think Anderson had to physically restrain Donovan before she punched him." Anna chuckled.

"I'm not surprised - Sally does have a right temper on her. I'm surprised I've never been subject to it; if she knew what I was really like, she would probably have come up for a nickname for me by now!" Greg shook his head.

"No, you're not that bad, you can just come off as..." He trailed off as he looked in her direction and was greeted with a raised eyebrow, daring him to finish the sentence. "Nevermind." She smiled - she knew exactly what he was going to say, and while she didn't like it, it was true - she did come off as a bit unfriendly when people first met her, but they just needed to get used to her bluntness towards people she didn't know, and then they could see who she really was. It's probably one of the reasons why her and Sherlock of all people got on so well. 

The next day, Greg resumed his early starts, kissing Anna on the head just before he left the house to head to work. Although she wasn't as tired as she had been the past couple of days, the nausea and bloating had still continued, so she had to take it easy before she went back to work. As a result, she was now sat at her window seat, reading another detective romance (ironic, yes) when a thought popped into her head. 

_I've never been bloated this badly before in my life, and there isn't a single possible explanation as to why. I mean, except for **that** , but that's impossible. _

_Wait._

_No, it isn't._

8 pm on a Thursday evening and both Greg and Anna had had a few drinks, before stumbling upstairs and into bed - not to sleep. 

Anna sat there for a moment, motionless; the book in her hand forgotten before she raced into action. She shoved the bookmark back into her book and made her way upstairs where she quickly threw on some comfortable clothes, gathering her bag, phone and keys and raced out the door and into the car. The whole way to the Pharmacy, the memory (albeit blurry) kept spinning through her head on repeat. It was definitely a possibility now she thought about it. Obviously both of them were to blame - they were in the same state when they'd made the mistake, but it didn't make it any better. And although they weren't actively trying for a baby, she knew he would be over the moon if she were pregnant. 

The bell rang as she entered Boots, and she quickly navigated the other shoppers with her mask on as she made her way over to the section she needed. The many times she'd glanced over to this part of the shelving which was conveniently near the menstruation section, she'd never actually realised how many tests there were. Obviously she didn't need to worry about ovulation at the moment - that might have already been taken care of, so she focused her attention on the Clearblue tests. _How many do I get? Is three excessive? No, I need four. Five? No, too many._

Nevertheless, she left the Pharmacy with Five Clearblue pregnancy tests and a good luck from the Pharmacist - god knows she was going to need it. As she started towards the car, she heard a familiar voice call out to her.

"Anna!" 

_Shit. Sherlock._

Anna turned to face him, painting a smile on her face as she tried her best to hide the bag of tests behind her back. But, of course, this was Sherlock. You can't hide anything from him, so as he went in to hug her, he wrapped his hands around her waist and pulled the bag from behind her back, opening it and looking into it. Now, Sherlock was one of Anna's best friends - she'd met him briefly before she met Greg, and so their lives had slotted together pretty well, meaning that their friendship had come easy to them. 

"You're...?" Anna shrugged. 

"I don't know yet - s' why I have those." She mumbled, not knowing if Sherlock would be happy for her or not. He should be - considering the fact that she was fully supportive when he'd come out as bisexual and had started dating His Blogger, John Watson, who he then went on to marry, as everyone was reminded by the gold band on his left hand. She'd caught Sherlock admiring the way the sun glinted off it many times in the first couple of months they'd been married, and it was like he couldn't believe someone had actually had the guts to marry him. If Anna was being honest, if Sherlock was going to marry anyone - it was going to be John. 

"Come on, I don't have a case at the moment - I'll go back to the house and wait with you." Anna sighed in relief, thankful that he wasn't panicking about this. 

**

"What if it's positive?" Anna questioned, her leg bouncing up and down as she sat side by side on the bed with Sherlock. He opened his mouth to reply, but she cut him off. "What if it's negative?" He tried to reply once again. "What if-"

"Okay, stop, there are only two outcomes - you can't worry yourself like this. Just wait a minute and a half more and you'll know. Why do you think you're pregnant anyway?" 

Anna shrugged. "Well, I've had nausea and bloating the past couple of days, and I thought it might have been the virus, but then my test came back as negative and I wondered if it could be...well, this." She gestured to the tests. She pulled her jumper up to show her stomach, and Sherlock deadpanned when he looked down. 

"Jesus, Anna - that's pregnancy if I've ever seen it! By the looks of it, you're having twins!" Anna gasped and punched him on the arm. "What?! You can't be that far along if you are pregnant, and if you're already that big then twins are the only explanation." She sat there for a second before her eyes widened. 

"Oh god, you're right! What do I do?! What do I tell Greg?!" Before Sherlock could respond, the timer in the bathroom went off. Anna looked at him, fear written on her face. They both made their way into the bathroom, where two tests were lying on the windowsill, face down. 

"Shall we?" He asked. Anna nodded, and they both picked up a test, turning them over slowly. 

_Positive, and positive._

**Author's Note:**

> I sort of projected my fears of the Coronavirus test onto this fic, but please do get tested if you have symptoms! It's so so important. Stay safe :)


End file.
